


a hundred times over

by shengzhes (pyrophos)



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: M/M, Parallel Universes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 16:31:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7446037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pyrophos/pseuds/shengzhes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nothing resonates louder than the voice asking him to stay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a hundred times over

**Author's Note:**

> It's my first time writing a Seventeen fic, so this one is a milestone for me. Thank you to the people who helped me finish this: TLFD, and Alex, thank you for holding my hand through this.
> 
> Ji, to whom this is dedicated to, thank you for providing me with such a lovely prompt. I hope this is somehow close to what you had been expecting.
> 
> I'm sorry for some inconsistencies and inaccurate information; this was very rushed, and thoroughly unbeta'd.

_It’s only fair_

_that I should be the one_

_to chase you across ten, twenty-five, a hundred lifetimes_

 

**00:00:00:00**

 

Mingyu jolts awake at the shrill sonance of his alarm clock, promptly rolling off the comfort of his bed and falls headfirst upon the cold surface of his bedroom floor. He does so with a loud _thud,_ disturbing his roommate, Jeonghan, from his sound slumber. Mingyu stays sprawled upon the floor,hands attempting to relieve the throbbing pain in his head, his alarm tone still ringing boisterously.

Jeonghan takes the initiative to do both of themselves a favour and gets off his own bed, turning off Mingyu’s alarm, eyes still laced with sleep. 

“Thanks,” Mingyu says, groaning. He finally gathers the strength to sit upright. “What a great way to start the day.”

“Right, the best way to start your special day, indeed.” Jeonghan starts making his bed, tossing his pillows aside and straightening his sheets. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready by now, though? You wouldn’t want to keep him waiting.”

“Special day? Why, what’s up? And who shouldn’t I keep waiting?”

Jeonghan tries to stifle a hearty chuckle as he finishes making his bed. He lets out a deep sigh and smiles at his roommate. “You know, with the way you wouldn’t stop talking about it last night, I didn’t think you’d actually forget about it. Kim Mingyu, you are unbelievable.”

“Jeonghan, what is i—“ Mingyu cuts himself short when he grabs his phone and checks the date. _July 17th, 2016._ He brings a hand over his mouth, but not after he exclaims, “—holy shit.”

“Great, you remember!” Jeonghan says, pointing at a tiny, velvet box on Mingyu’s bedside table. “Now, I’ll leave you so you could get ready. Try to look presentable, won’t you? You’ve got a _yes_ to receive tonight!”

It’s when the door’s already halfway closed when Mingyu calls after Jeonghan, his voice trembling, “Hyung, but what if I don’t?”

Jeonghan smirks, rolling his eyes before slamming the door shut. He shouts from the other side.

“I’ll disown you if you don’t!”

Mingyu stands up and starts getting ready, chuckling.

His eyes land upon the velvet box on his table. He takes it into his hands, opening it, revealing a shimmering silver band tucked safely inside. The initials _JWW_ are inscribed along the inner lining of the ring. 

But as much as Mingyu would like to stare at the band all day, he knows he’d rather see it sitting daintily upon Wonwoo’s ring finger tonight.

 

❊

 

He arrives at their meeting place a solid hour before the time set, with a bad case of nerves and a whole lot of trembling. The velvet box sits securely in his pocket, though Mingyu doesn’t remember it being this heavy.

He tries putting together his lines for later tonight. He didn't prepare a script, because Jeonghan told him it would be better if his words came straight from his heart, and not to be read from a piece of paper.

The thing is, Kim Mingyu has never been good with words, and now he’s terrified, spluttering and sputtering as he engages into a monologue.

_Jeon Wonwoo, will you marry me?_

Too generic.

_Jeon Wonwoo, will you be my husband?_

Too cliché. He knows Wonwoo doesn’t like cliché.

_Jeon Wonwoo, will you spend the rest of your life with me?_

Too cheesy.

_Jeon Wonwoo, will you spend forever with me?_

He already knows how this will end, he can already hear Wonwoo detesting his belief in _forever._

_Jeon Wonwoo, it’s your birthday tonight, do you want me as your gift?_

He cringes at the thought. Now this is something he knows he’ll never say.

_Jeon Wonwoo, will you—_

His phone vibrates as Wonwoo’s photo flashes at him from his screen. He smiles, and with a swift swipe of a finger, he brings his phone to his ear and hears the voice he’s learned to love so much.

“Darling,” Wonwoo hums from the other side, “I just got off from work. I’m on my way there now, I hope our agenda for tonight isn’t too urgent?”

“It’s your birthday, for god’s sake, why wouldn’t it be urgent?” Mingyu feigns annoyance, earning himself a giggle from Wonwoo. “Besides, what’s taking you so long?”

“I had to run some errands at the office tonight. No worries, I’m almost there! Wait for me, alright?”

“I’m pouting right now,” Mingyu says nonchalantly, “You just can’t see it. I can’t believe you’re late to your own birthday celebration with the love of your life.”

“Stop being such a drama queen, Kim Mingyu. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

“Alright, hurry up!”

“Oh, and darling?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

Suddenly the dimly-lit restaurant is a whole lot brighter, the noisy exchanges of the people around him seem to dissolve and dissipate into aimless chatter and nothing else seems to matter anymore. The box in his pocket feels a lot lighter, too. He smiles to himself. _Jeon Wonwoo, will you ever stop making me feel this way?_

“I love you, too.”

_Love is a funny thing,_ Mingyu thinks. It sets you up and spins you around. It makes you believe in things you once swore you’d never do so. He was never a believer of love. To him, it was a figment of imagination, a myth, a legend that existed only in the pages of prose and poetry but never in his heart.

Kim Mingyu was the epitome of disbelief. A self-proclaimed cynic. To love was synonymous to destruction. To love was to put yourself up to be broken even when you know there’s no guarantee that someone’s going to fix you. To him, love was the subject of wars. The beginning of the end. To him, love was cataclysmic.

But he never knew what _cataclysmic_ was until he met Wonwoo.

The moment he’d looked into those eyes, he knew he was going to fall. He knew he was losing balance and it was only a matter of time before some unknown force was going to come and knock him off his feet. The boy’s sharp gazes didn’t at all intimidate him, nor did it come off as cold and calculating.

Instead, he doesn’t miss the realization that looking into those eyes was the warmest he’s ever felt in years.

It took him a long time to believe in love, but it didn’t take much for him to believe in _them._

And just like that, Mingyu went from a cynical disbeliever to a love-struck adherent. No, he still doesn’t believe in a lot of things, but there are things he’s sure of: 

He believes in Wonwoo. 

He believes in them. 

He believes in soulmates, and that Wonwoo is the one for him.

Theirs wasn't the perfect relationship. Misgivings and shortcomings still found their way between them. They'd found themselves on the brink of separation, once or twice, more so often than the both of them would like to admit.

In the aftermaths of petty late-night quarrels, angry and hurt, is when Mingyu would tell himself that he no longer believes. 

Though it never worked, because Wonwoo's touch is always enough to make him a believer once more.

An hour has passed and Wonwoo’s still not in front of him. Anxiety and worry are the symptoms of disbelief, so he knows his heart shouldn’t be feeling this heavy right now, but he also knows this sinking feeling’s not going to disappear anytime soon.

With a trembling hand, he tries to call his lover. 

_Twenty-three outgoing calls._

_Twenty-three missed calls._

( _I believe in you, I believe in you, I believe in you._ It resounds in his head, like a mantra. _I believe in you, Wonwoo.)_

Mingyu is driven to the edge, almost losing his composure, until his phone vibrates once more and he answers it immediately, not even getting the chance to look at the caller ID. He breathes out a shaky, “Hello?”

“Hey, darling, I’m really sorry. I should’ve been there an hour ago,” says the only voice Mingyu wants to hear right now, prompting him to let out a deep sigh of relief. “But can you fetch me? I’m at the convenience store by the university now. I lost the address you gave me, sorry!”

“Why haven’t you been answering my calls, hyung? I was worried sick!”

“I’m sorry, my phone died and I’m at the charging station now,” Wonwoo says, his voice noticeably apologetic. “I’ll make it up to you later.”

“Alright, wait for me. I’m on my way.”

Mingyu stands, bids their waiter a quiet, _I’ll be right back,_ and starts walking towards the convenience store.

 

✼

 

He enters and sees Wonwoo sitting next to a small machine near the counter. The older boy waves at him, straightening the scarf around his neck before bringing a cup of coffee to his lips.

To scold him and lash out at him for making him worry so much is what Mingyu wants to do, but doesn’t.

What Mingyu does, however, is run to him with open arms and engulf him in a tight embrace. He feels Wonwoo laugh, his head buried against his chest. “Missed me?”

“Shut up, I was worrying so much I thought I was gonna die,” Mingyu says. “Whatever, you’re here now. That’s all that matters to me.”

“Let’s go, then!” Wonwoo chirps happily, unplugging his phone from the charging station. He grabs his half-finished cup of coffee and intertwines his hand with Mingyu’s. The latter knows he’s done this many times, but it still makes his heart flutter every now and then.

“So, what do you have in store for us tonight?” Wonwoo asks, and Mingyu doesn’t fail to notice the excitement twinkling in his eyes, even in the dimly-lit alleyways of Seoul.

“You’ll see when we get there,” Mingyu teases, his hand instinctively reaching down to feel the velvet box in his pocket.

Just when Mingyu begins to think that’s all there was to the dread he was feeling earlier, that nothing can go wrong now that Wonwoo’s by his side, they hear it.

_It all happens rapidly._  

An earsplitting cry breaks the silence of the quiet streets. Mingyu and Wonwoo both turn their heads at the same time to catch a glimpse of a young girl in a perilous game of tug-of-war with a man clad in black. Only they weren’t playing it with rope: between them, stretched, was a pink leather handbag.

Another man in black runs to the scene and pulls the girl by her neck with a firm arm. 

“Hyung, let’s g—“ Mingyu turns to say. It takes him two seconds too late to realize that Wonwoo’s no longer beside him. There’s no longer a hand intertwined with his.

He catches a silhouette running towards the commotion. Mingyu reaches out, calling for Wonwoo with all his might, but his voice fails him and all that he hears himself say is a destitute “ _No.”_

The world around him whirls, knocking the wind out of his lungs and catching him off-guard. Suddenly he is unable to move, unable to speak.

People are running in every direction, fearing for their life. Most, but not all. There are some who chose to witness the scene.

There’s more screaming from both sides—high pitched screeches. Huffs and shrieks. There’s commotion surrounding the uproar, the harsh buzzing and babbling from the bystanders mixing with the tension hanging in the air.

_“What a brave boy.”_

_“Oh, that must hurt!”_

_“Pity this had to happen…”_

He hears them all, and it sends Mingyu fuming with anger. He finally regains his senses, running after Wonwoo, joining the quarrel. Suddenly he is running, as fast as his legs could take him, shoving innocent spectators aside as he sprints. Adrenaline rages through his veins. His heart threatens to burst right out of his chest.

He is a moment too late.

The loud, rippling gunshot slices through the air, sending more people fleeing from the scene. Mingyu hears more screaming, and then he hears the screeching of tires from nearby: the two culprits escape in horror, their raggedy white van zooming off into the night. The young girl cries in despair as she takes her phone out with a quivering hand, appearing to be dialing a number.

Where the brawl once commenced now stood a thick concentration of people, through which Mingyu squeezes his way in. It’s what he sees that shatters him even more. 

Wonwoo, sprawled cold and immobile upon the concrete pavement. His glasses lopsided over his face, his hair disheveled and bedraggled, the fabric of his scarf torn all over. Just behind his head gushed a pool of crimson, staining the asphalt sidewalk.

He is seething with rage over a lot of things, over a lot of people. He abhors him all, detests him all, but nothing is quite as strong as the resentment he feels towards himself. 

_For just standing there and not doing anything as he watches his lover gamble his life for another’s._

_For letting shock and terror get the best of him, rendering him useless, helpless._

_For wasting away opportunity, for letting the moments pass without being able to move, to speak, or even do anything to stop the horror happening right in front of him._

_For not saving Wonwoo when he had the chance._

He doesn’t cry—not because he doesn’t want to, but because he can’t. He sees the gun the suspects used, discarded a few feet away from where Wonwoo laid. The animosity in his chest only continues to build up, even more, he’s afraid it’s only a matter of time before he explodes.

The medics arrive not shortly after, along with the authorities. The cacophony of sirens and hurried, agitated voices all seem to coalesce into indecipherable ringing inside Mingyu’s head. The police ask him several questions as he watches the paramedics take Wonwoo away.

Eventually, he jumps into the ambulance, Wonwoo still laying idly in front of him. He takes his hand into his.

He fears the moment he has to let go.

 

✼

 

Kim Mingyu believes in a lot of things, as mentioned. He believes in Wonwoo, he believes in them, he believes that Wonwoo is his soulmate. He believes in love, he believes in destiny.

There is still, however, a lot of things he can never bring himself to believe in.

_“… The bullet grazed the side of his head… the chances of surviving had been very low, Mr. Kim, he’s very lucky to do so…”_

He doesn’t want to believe it.

_“… It’s unknown how long he’ll be in a coma, but rest assured, we’ll do everything we can for him to regain his consciousness…”_

He shatters, into a mess of tears and incoherent pleads for Wonwoo to _come back, come back,_ and amidst it all, he doesn't miss the telltale stench of regret hanging dolefully in the restless hospital.

A year has three hundred and sixty-five days, though it baffles Mingyu to think that all of this had to happen today. On the very day that he'd planned to make the love of his life finally _his. For eternity._ The irony of it all should've been enough to make Mingyu laugh, but right now, all he can think of is maybe the way he started the day with such immense pain and misfortune was just another warning he refused to heed.

He gazes at his lover, lying so serenely, pale and unmoving against the white hospital sheets. It almost seems like he’s just asleep after a long and tiring day, but the bruises and the marks all over his skin tell Mingyu otherwise. There are tubes sticking out of him from all directions, all connected to apparatus surrounding him. There is a thick layer of gauze wrapped around the rear side of his head.

He calls Jeonghan, who visits that night to bring food and clothes when Mingyu tells him he’ll be staying the night. He bids his best friend goodbye, changing into much more comfortable clothes when he leaves. 

But not before removing the velvet box out of his pocket, taking the engagement band. With a heavy heart, he slips it onto Wonwoo’s ring finger.

“So that when you wake up,” Mingyu murmurs to someone who doesn't hear, “The first thing you’ll remember is the promise of my love.”

He holds Wonwoo’s hand until he falls asleep. It’s been a long night.

( _Will you stay with me?_ Mingyu asks in a whisper barely audible. He knows he’s waiting for an answer he’ll never receive.)

 

**✼**

 

Mingyu's life continues the way it should. He wakes up early, goes to work, and then back home. Only this time, home wasn't the flat he and Jeonghan shared, home was Wonwoo's hospital suite. He hasn't been dropping by his flat lately, only doing so when he needs to run certain errands or when he runs out of fresh clothes to wear.

_"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I actually miss you and your noisy-ass alarm tone," Jeonghan says over the phone, chuckling. "How's Wonwoo doing?"_

_"He's doing fine, hyung. Still asleep, as usual. Nothing much has been happening here."_

_"Well, if you need anything, you know you can always come home. Send Wonwoo my love, Mingyu. I have to go. Talk to you later!"_

He peeks outside the window. Dark clouds are looming over the city tonight, and he's never liked the rain. It makes him feel lonely and isolated. Thunder rumbles and lightning strikes over the horizon, making Mingyu flinch slightly.

Wonwoo, on the other hand, loves rainy afternoons and stormy nights. He knows how terribly the occasional thunderstorms scare the heck out of Mingyu. The roaring thunder would always send the younger boy trembling inside Wonwoo's embrace, but the warmth of his touch is more than enough to make Mingyu feel safe and reassured.

The soft pitter-patter of raindrops upon the windowsill and the steady beeping of the monitors beside Wonwoo eventually lull Mingyu to sleep, once again holding onto the shorter boy's hand as he falls into deep slumber. 

But the moment he closes his eyes, the ground beneath him starts to quiver, and the shaking doesn't stop for what seems like an hour, until he opens his eyes once more and the trembling stops. His hands are cold, there are rivulets of sweat trickling down the entirety of his face.

He scans his surroundings. Wonwoo is no longer beside him.

 

**07:17:48:48**

 

The rain has stopped, and radiant sunlight makes its way through the crevices of the blinds.

He's still in the hospital suite, but Wonwoo isn't on the bed anymore. The monitors are gone, the bed is well-made. There's no trace of Wonwoo to be found, even Mingyu's clothes that he had hung upon the rack by the door are gone. The room was seemingly empty.

Only, it wasn't.

At the far right of the room, there is a couch, and on the couch sat a man in white. His ash grey hair is neatly groomed, not a strand out of place. His suit was pristine, not a spot, not a stain, not a loose thread in sight. He simply looked angelic, his heavenly aura making him look fragile. Mingyu dared not to move, until the man started to speak.

“I know what your heart desires, Kim Mingyu,” the man says. “And that is for him to wake up.”

Mingyu doesn’t speak, only managing a feeble nod. 

“I can help you with that.”

“W-who are you?” Mingyu splutters, his feet subconsciously walking towards the man in white. The man smiles as he stands up. Upon closer inspection, Mingyu realizes that the man is short in stature compared to him, though more built. His face, however, was as useful as the glow he emanated. He still looked more like a boy and less of a man, despite the way he looks and the way he talks.

“Let’s just say I’m a friend who’s willing to help you.”

The man then reaches into his front pocket and takes out a small, silver band. Mingyu, out of instinct, reaches to feel the box that’s supposed to be in his pocket, only to remember that he’d left the box on Wonwoo’s bedside table, and that he’d slipped the ring onto the latter’s finger last night.

“This ring will let you travel through different universes. The length of your stay in these universes is not consistent, some will end shortly, and some will dwindle on for hours—maybe even days. Now, your task is to find the one where you and him will end up together. Once you do, you will be transported back into this universe, and your lives will continue, as they should.”

“Keep in mind, however, that you must complete your task before he wakes up. Once he wakes up and you haven’t found the right universe, you’ll be stuck in that parallel universe forever. You’ll leave no trace in this world—it’s as if you never existed.”

The way he says the last sentence sounds more of a threat to Mingyu than a warning. He gulps, and truth be told, he doesn’t know if this is all in his head or if it’s reality, but then again, he no longer knows what to believe in.

“Why do I have to do this?” Mingyu asks, his voice tinged with disheartenment, “Can’t I just wait for him to wake up?”

“Ah, but I already know how this ends, Kim Mingyu. If you accomplish your task, he’ll remember you when he wakes up. That’s how your lives will continue.”

“And if I don’t?”

“You can decline my offer, and wait for him to wake up, but when he does, he won’t remember who you are. Or what you are to him. All that you’ve built over the past five years will all go to waste, and you’ll have to work for it again. And you know it’ll never be the same, Mingyu.”

Mingyu’s heart drops. He’ll wait for Wonwoo to wake up. Even if it takes him forever, he knows he’d do it. He’s definitely willing to rebuild everything they once had, in case Wonwoo wakes up without any memory of him. Or them.

“The clock’s ticking, Mingyu,” The man says nonchalantly, “What I’m doing is merely giving you a chance.”

He’d do anything for Wonwoo. That’s one thing he’s sure of. He would wait for him, he would court him a hundred times over and never get tired of it, but to chase him through a hundred lifetimes and back, a handful of universes and back—that was a promise he’d made to the older boy back then.

And now, that’s a promise he’s going to fulfill for the sake of _them_.

“How much time do I have?”

“No one knows. He could wake up any time, Mingyu. He could wake up tomorrow, next week, the next months, or he might not wake up after 2 years.”

He closes his eyes, heaving a deep breath. He reaches out an open palm to the man. “I’ll do it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Surer than I’ll ever be.”

The man smiles and places the ring carefully on Mingyu’s palm. He brings it closer, and sees that it’s completely identical to the one he gave to Wonwoo. Except along the inner lining, instead of JWW, KMG is engraved intricately.

It’s his own.

“Now, wear the ring, and your task shall begin shortly. Good luck, Kim Mingyu.”

The man starts to walk towards the room’s exit, before Mingyu exclaims, “Wait!”

“What’s your name?” Mingyu asks as he slips the ring onto his finger.

He smirks, and Mingyu thinks it looks eerily similar to how Jeonghan had when he’d slammed the door on him yesterday.

“My name is Seungcheol.”

He closes the door behind him and Mingyu’s world starts spinning again, this time faster, going faster and faster, until he loses his balance and he collapses. He tumbles, only this time there is no surface for him to fall on. Instead, he plunges, into an abyss of darkness and he just keeps _falling, falling, falling._

And finally, _thud._

He wakes up in a war zone.

 

**07:15:41:29**

 

“Doctor Kim, Doctor Kim! Jisoo is injured!”

A man, clad in army uniform, is running towards him. His youthful, child-like face is covered in bruises and grease. With his arms, he cradles a gun too large for his petite stature. Mingyu recognizes him immediately. “Jihoon?"

He nods.

Mingyu remembers Lee Jihoon from high school. Jihoon was the student council president for two years until he graduated. A consistent honor student, he was one year above Mingyu, and served as his inspiration too. There wasn’t a single student in Mingyu’s high school who did not idolize Lee Jihoon.

But looking at him now, Mingyu’s sure he isn’t the same Jihoon he knows.

There’s a man whose arm is draped over Jihoon’s shoulders, who is then laid down in front of Mingyu. On his left leg, sits a gaping bullet wound, and Mingyu panics, because he doesn’t know what to do and he is once again helpless. This man is going to die by his hands and he’s never going to forgive himself for it. 

“Listen, Jihoon, I’m not a—“ But Jihoon is already running towards the battlefield once more, leaving him with a wounded soldier—Jisoo. 

Mingyu puts his hands to his head in frustration, kneeling over the man for what seemed to be five minutes until someone finally notices his inability, and runs to his side. “Move aside, let me do this.”

That voice, which he’d recognize anywhere.

“Wonwoo…” Mingyu starts, but Wonwoo doesn’t respond and starts working on Jisoo’s bullet wound, beginning to apply a tourniquet over the injured leg. 

“How are you?”

“Is that an attempt to engage in small talk, Kim Mingyu?” He chuckles, but Mingyu realizes there is something else to the tone of his voice. Something that sounded a lot like bitterness. “What, you think that'll stop me from thinking you’re slacking off from your job?”

“W-what?” Mingyu asks, dazed. “Wonwoo, don’t you remember me?”

“Oh, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget you, Mingyu.” Wonwoo says. “And I’m sure you’re never going to forget me, too.”

“I don’t understand, Wonwoo, what are you talking about?”

“Wow, Mingyu, you must've really whacked your head hard during last night's combat. Whatever the case may be, or whether you really have forgotten or not, the only thing you need to remember is that we hate each others’ guts. That’s all there is to it.”

He finishes applying first aid to Jisoo and calls for him to be put on a stretcher and carried to the infirmary. He shoots Mingyu a sharp gaze and leaves him dumbfounded.

Mingyu does not know what exactly happened between this universe’s versions of himself and Wonwoo, and what made him hate the former so much. He doesn’t know what went down that fueled Wonwoo with such hatred towards him. What he does know, however, is that this universe isn’t the right one. He must keep going.

So he lets the days drag on, wondering when he’ll get to be transported to the next universe. During one of these raucous, disastrous days on the battlefield, he takes the chance to apologize to Wonwoo, even though he doesn’t know exactly what for. Once he does, he sees the expression on the older boy’s face change, from absolute disdain to one that looked like concern.

Things don’t end well on the battlefield, Mingyu realizes, as he watches his comrades die right before his eyes, one by one. The newfound concern Wonwoo had for him was blissful while it lasted, and the last time Mingyu sees Wonwoo is when he sees his body on a stretcher, ready to be hauled and sent back home.

He doesn’t cry. A war doesn’t give you time for tears and mourning, Mingyu learns. The war doesn’t cease after Wonwoo’s life does, however. Wonwoo isn’t in this life anymore, so Mingyu figures out that it’s only a matter of time before he’s whisked into the next lifetime.

It comes not shortly after—when Mingyu dashes into the open to help retrieve a fallen soldier and a bullet scrapes against his left shoulder. 

He flinches.

_Another one, this time, down his back._

He falls face-first onto the ground. 

In his last moments in this universe he sees Wonwoo again, not the Wonwoo in this universe who hated him, but _his_ Wonwoo from the world he left behind.

His wounds were already draining the life out of him, but suddenly death doesn’t feel so foreign anymore when Wonwoo’s smiling down on him and reaches out a hand that Mingyu doesn’t hesitate to take. Life surges through his veins once more when he feels his warmth.

The bullets are cold against his flesh and he blacks out not long after, the shouts of his comrades around him and the rambunctious explosions of bombs and bullets lulling him to sleep. 

 

**07:07:21:23**

 

“Professor—“

“We can’t, Mingyu.” 

In this universe, Mingyu is born 15 years after Wonwoo, who becomes his professor when he enrolls at one of the most prestigious universities in the country.

As always, it’s Mingyu who pursues the cheerful Biology professor, never taking his eyes off his face during class discussions, purposely brushing his hand against Wonwoo’s whenever he hands back graded papers. It’s Mingyu who leaves pink and purple roses on his desk at every dismissal. It was the one trait Professor Jeon shared with his Wonwoo: their love for pink and purple roses.

He is, however, fully oblivious to the younger boy’s feelings until he finally musters up the courage to confess. 

It takes a kiss, or two, one lingering touch after the other, before the older boy finally gives in to Mingyu’s desires. It continues for two good years until word spread in the campus that _Professor Jeon from the Science Department has been growing quite too close with Biology major Kim Mingyu._

It was harmless at first, until there were photos taken, photos shared, photos posted on online blogging websites. It was harmless until the authorities decided this is going to take a great toll on their reputation—that the university cannot handle a scandal on a scale as large as this one.

“I’m not the right one for you, Mingyu. Don’t you see? This is all sorts of wrong,” Professor Jeon says, evading the taller boy’s gaze. 

“Don’t you love me?”

He never gets the chance to answer; the headmaster’s voice blares through the speakers.

_“Professor Jeon Wonwoo, please make your way to the administrative office. Thank you.”_

Both of them know this is the last they’ll see of each other, but neither of them says goodbye.

Instead, Wonwoo whispers, _“I never loved you.”_

_Liar._

He walks away, and Mingyu is left alone in his Biology classroom for what seems to be the last time. This is how he realizes this isn’t the right universe, and this is how they end in this one—no words, just the bitter silence of an unsaid farewell.

 

**06:15:12:42**

 

He awakes in a dormitory with eleven other boys, at the ass-crack of dawn.

Three of them are already dressed and ready to go, four are still in a line leading to the bathroom. Two are at the dining table, waiting for the breakfast another was preparing. Mingyu, on the other hand, is the only one who doesn’t have an idea of where he’s supposed to be—or what he’s supposed to be doing at the moment.

“Hey, why aren’t you preparing yet?” One of the boys says. He knows that voice. He turns around and sees Jeonghan. “We’ve got a schedule in thirty minutes, Mingyu.”

“J-Jeonghan?” Mingyu stutters. The older boy doesn’t seem to be impressed. One more boy makes his way to where he and Jeonghan stood. Mingyu recognizes him, too. “Seungcheol!”

“Mingyu, why do you seem so surprised to see us? You’ve been living with us for 7 years now, weirdo.” 

“I have?”

“Alright, listen. You are Kim Mingyu, you were born April 6th, 1997. You, as well as the rest of us here, are in a band called Seventeen. You are a rapper, and a visual, as much as we would all hate to admit it—“

“Wait, there’s seventeen of us? I only counted twelve…”

“Long story. Our schedule today is to film our Inkigayo comeback stage, and then we go straight to a fan sign in—“

“What exactly do we do in a fan sign? Oh, and what’s our song? I may or may not have forgotten…”

“Oh dear, you must’ve hit your head really hard this morning,” Jeonghan says, shaking his head as he walks away. Mingyu turns towards Seungcheol, who only winks at him.

He recognizes most of the boys as people he has encountered back then, during high school and throughout college. Jihoon is here. Jisoo, the wounded soldier from two universes ago, is now cooking for eleven other boys thriving in a cramped dormitory. 

There are only two boys he hasn’t seen before. Minghao and Junhui, they are called. From the way they talk and from their names, Mingyu knows they aren’t from around here.

He sees Chan, too, one of the boys from his high school who was two years his junior. Then there’s Soonyoung, president of the dance club in high school…

Mingyu is struck with an idea—he asks Soonyoung to teach him the steps and the lyrics to their new song. The brunet looks confused, but happily complies.

 

**✼**

 

Truth be told, he has never been to a fan sign before. So when he sits there, before a long table with the other members, he’s clueless. 

He smiles and waves and signs his name over photos of him he doesn’t even remember getting taken. Fans ask him questions, though he’s quite hesitant to answer since he doesn’t really know the Mingyu of this universe—what he does, what he likes, and what his preferences are. He doesn’t want to ruin his image in this universe, so he keeps his mouth shut. 

He peers at the line overhead, sighing to himself. _It’s going to be a long day._

Mingyu keeps smiling, waving, telling the fans he loves them. Until he catches a flash of a familiar boy with jet black hair in the crowd and round glasses.

_He’s found him._

Five more people. four more. two. one person left before it’s his turn to meet the boy. His heart pounds in his chest and the boy moves on to his late, grinning from ear to ear. Mingyu does, too. He still looks ethereal, beautiful as always. Mingyu would usually tell the fans _hi_ first, but he loses the ability to speak, and he’s at a loss for words.

“Hi, my name is Jeon Wonwoo and I’m your biggest fan! I love you so much and I’ve been waiting my whole life for this!” He says this in quick succession, and it takes a few seconds for Mingyu to comprehend what he’d just said. 

“WOW, I can’t believe you’re actually real!” Wonwoo exclaims, “buying thirty-five albums was totally worth it!”

“So, how are you, hyung?” Mingyu asks. “Have you been eating well? Resting well?”

“I have, thank you for asking! I can’t believe you’re actually talking to me, oh my god,” Wonwoo says excitedly, pushing back his glasses. “Oh, and how did you know I’m older than you? Gosh, I must look really old now, don’t I… I’ve been supporting you even before you debuted! I feel so ancient. I’ve really watched you grow all throughout these years…”

Mingyu’s heart flutters, and he wants this moment to last, in fact, he doesn’t want it to end. However, the guards are already urging the line to move. He doesn’t want it to. He doesn’t want to lose Wonwoo again.

“Oh dear, it’s already over… thank you for this opportunity, Mingyu!” Wonwoo chirps, taking his album and slamming it shut. Before he goes, he reaches out to touch Mingyu’s hands. “I love you, I really do! I’ll see you again someday!”

“I love you too! I’m the one who has waited my whole life for this,” Mingyu says, and for the first time after a hundred times, he actually means it. “Until we meet again, Wonwoo-hyung.”

It’s what inspires him to do well in this lifetime. He’s not a man suited for the heavy workload, he definitely didn’t think that he was one who’d love the limelight, but he endures it all. All for the hope that he sees Wonwoo again in the next event they hold. In a fansign, preferably, so he gets to see him up close again.

Wonwoo’s is the only face he looks for in crowds. In every single one of their sold-out concerts, and tours all around the world, throughout of all, he looks for Wonwoo. He yearns for Wonwoo. 

Seventeen, now regarded as the kings of the industry, have reached the peak of their careers. Newer, younger groups begin to show up and topple their records. They stay together as a band for ten years, until they collectively decide to seek greener pastures and disband. They bid their goodbyes, promising they’ll still do collaborations with one another in the future. They stay together as friends, but no longer as a band.

_“I’ll see you again someday!”_

And through it all, Wonwoo’s voice echoes in Mingyu’s head like a promise.

He never hears that voice in this lifetime again.

 

**05:09:11:24**

 

Mingyu wakes up in a quaint little flower shop that he supposedly runs for a living. 

He checks the date today. July 17th. _It’s Wonwoo’s birthday._ In the life Mingyu left behind, that is. He wonders if it’s still his birthday in this lifetime. Out of instinct, he prepares a bouquet of purple and pink flowers—Wonwoo’s favorites. He doesn’t know what he’ll do with it, he doesn’t know how he’ll be able to send it or if he’ll even be able to, but he does so, anyway.

Mingyu’s finally close to finishing his project when the chimes sound outside, signaling the arrival of a visitor. And surely, a man walks into the shop. 

_Junhui,_ he says he’s called, flashes Mingyu a bright smile. It’s a particularly chilly morning, Mingyu agrees with that. The man has a thick scarf wrapped around his neck, his gloved hands tucked snuggly inside his coat pockets. 

Mingyu recognizes him immediately—he’s one of his Chinese band members several lifetimes ago.

“What can I do for you today, sir?” Mingyu asks. He guesses that’s the generic greeting for customers whenever they visit the shop. That’s what the florist would say every time he visits the flower shop by the block to buy Wonwoo flowers during their first year together, anyway.

“It’s my boyfriend’s birthday today,” Junhui says, “And I’d like to get him a bouquet of his favorite flowers!”

“What exactly are his favorite flowers, sir?” Mingyu manages to say with a consistent smile, still cradling the bouquet he’d just created in his arms.

“Purple and pink roses.”

Mingyu’s eyes dart to the bouquet he’s holding. His heart drops. How fateful that this man’s boyfriend likes the exact same flowers as the love of Mingyu’s life.

“Oh, that’s perfect!” Junhui exclaims, also looking at the bouquet Mingyu’s holding. “Can I have that one?”

“Sure, sir. I’ll just tweak it a little. Are you willing to wait?”

“Of course, take your time!”

He gets Junhui to wait by the shop, at least until after he finishes. He doesn’t do much, really, except add in a few more flowers than the prescribed standard (which he never knew existed until he saw the laminated sign just above the work desk) and add some embellishments. He goes outside and presents it to Junhui, whose eyes are sparkling in awe.

“For the finishing touch, sir, may I have his name? I have here this personal card that comes free with every arrangement and I could write his name here.”

“Oh, that would be lovely! His name is Wonwoo,” Junhui says, and something inside Mingyu snaps and shatters. He’s hurt at the coincidence, but even more hurt at the way Junhui says his name. “Jeon Wonwoo.”

As he sends the satisfied man off with the bouquet of purple and pink roses, Mingyu wishes for the next lifetime to come and take him away. Another universe wasted, another one without Wonwoo. 

He wonders, hopes, and asks.

He wonders when he’ll find the right universe. He wonders how long it’ll still take for him to find it. He wonders how much time he’s got left.

He _hopes_ for more time.

He _asks_ for more time.

 

**04:16:03:20**

 

Mingyu wakes up in a cemetery, of all places. The sun is shining brightly today, it takes his eyes a while to adjust to the brightness. 

He turns around and reads the first tombstone he sees.

_Wonwoo Jeon_

_July 17, 1996 —_  

He closes his eyes before he even gets to read the second line.

 

**04:14:11:21**

 

He finds himself in behind the counter of candy shop. His bones are aching, his knees shaking. He finds a mirror by one of the aisles and sees not the reflection he’s used to seeing, but an elderly man staring back at him.

_Oh._

There are wrinkles all over his face and his body, his back now hunched. His once youthful skin, now hanging loosely around his arm. In this lifetime, Mingyu realizes that he’s not always as how he’d been in his original world when shifting universes. It changes, too, and time doesn’t really flow chronologically when it does.

The door opens and in comes, a small boy clad in a shirt, suspenders, and shorts. “Hello, sir! Can I get a lollipop today?” He chirps happily, rummaging in his pocket for spare change. 

“What’s your name, boy?” Mingyu asks in a voice he doesn’t recognize.

The young boy’s face drops. “Sir, don’t you remember me? My name’s Wonwoo! Jeon Wonwoo! I am your neighbor!”

“Oh, really?” 

“I come here every day because I love candy!” Wonwoo exclaims, placing the spare change atop the counter. 

“Oh, you’re right. I’m sorry I forgot you, Wonwoo.”

He grabs a lollipop from the rack behind him and hands it to the small boy, who grins widely. “Just don’t eat too much candy, alright? Your teeth will rot, and dentists are scary.”

“You tell me that every day, sir. I’ll always keep that in mind!” Wonwoo says, unwrapping the lollipop and shoving it into his tiny mouth. “I have to go, sir! Thank you! I will see you tomorrow.”

Mingyu bids the small boy goodbye.

He patiently waits for the end to come.

 

**01:16:48:03**

 

Somewhere along the way, Mingyu learns to keep track of all the universes he's been in. 211 universes and counting—and it doesn't seem to surprise him. It doesn't bore him, either. The excitement of finally finding the right universe always snaps him back to his senses.

Some of the lives he's lived are very similar, and some very stark in contrast, it always ends the same way: with Wonwoo still not beside him, and with him wanting the next reality to come and take him away.

There are universes in which he is a child and Wonwoo is a man at the end of his years. In these universes he learns to see Wonwoo as a father figure, staying by his side until he perishes in his sleep. 

There are a lot of universes in which Wonwoo is born as his sibling: one where he is older, one where he is younger, and one where he and Mingyu are fraternal twins. These are the ones Mingyu actually enjoyed, these are where Wonwoo loved him back, not in the way he did in their original lives, but as family. Mingyu and Wonwoo as twins were the absolute embodiment of chaos, wreaking havoc and menace wherever they went.

Sometimes, Mingyu would wake up in a foreign country, only to find out that Wonwoo is on the other side of the world. In these universes, Mingyu would always take the first flight to where Wonwoo is, and he spends a lifetime finding out where he is. There are some where he does end up finding him, but there are more in which he does not, and he can only live the rest of that life alone.

Some of these coincide. Like that one in which Mingyu buys a plane ticket to France, where Wonwoo apparently was (He hears this through their mutual friend, Seokmin). Though, when he arrives there, Seokmin tells him that Wonwoo is already back in Seoul.

He only catches a glimpse of Wonwoo in some lifetimes. He's either a step too soon, or a beat too late. A glance too quick. He blinks and he misses him.

Mingyu would sometimes bump into him on a busy street, it takes him a second too late to realize that it's him. He would always whirl around to chase after him, but when he does, the familiar flash of jet black hair (it varies from universe to universe, too, he has seen Wonwoo in blonde, as a brunet, and a whole lot of other crazy colors) disappears amidst the busy crowd.

Many instances he'd been a woman, and truth be told, Mingyu never really got the hang of it. Sometimes, Wonwoo was the female between the both of them, and Mingyu believes he still looks absolutely gorgeous and enthralling whether he be a man or a woman.

He even gets to relive his high school and university life every now and then. Wonwoo has shown up once or twice as the quiet transfer student with the coldest gaze under round glasses. Mingyu gets him to warm up to him most of the time, but Wonwoo always ends up disappearing, one way or another—either moving schools, or moving out of the country for good.

(There are also a handful of universes in which Mingyu gets to see Wonwoo die, a hundred times over, but those are the ones he chooses to forget. Even when he knows he'll see him again, he doesn't think the pang in his chest will ever disappear.)

But something he doesn't fail to do in every universe is to stare at the ring on his finger and think of the Wonwoo he left behind. _His Wonwoo._ He wonders if he's doing well, if his family members are taking good care of him while he is asleep. Mingyu wonders if he's always thinking of him, too.

Mingyu _hopes_ he's thinking of him, too _._

Until one day, as he examines at the ring, he sees a set of numbers inscribed on it. These numbers definitely weren't there before. He rubs his eyes, in an attempt to see if he was just hallucinating and the numbers are just a figment of his imagination, but they're still there. _02:16:48:03,_ the ring says.

At first, he doesn't comprehend what it is. It looked like random numbers to him, but he notices that the numbers are _moving_. _02:16:48:03, 02:16:48:02, 02:16:48:01, 02:16:48:00, 02:16:47:59._

Then it hits him: it's a timer. It's counting down. It's counting down the days, the hours, the minutes, the seconds. _Two days, sixteen hours, forty-seven minutes and fifty-nine seconds._ That's all he has. If he doesn't finish his task within two days, Wonwoo will wake up with no memory of him. He'll be stuck in the wrong universe forever, a universe without Wonwoo.

He knows exactly what's happening.

He is running out of time.

 

**01:05:21:01**

 

He has one day and about five hours left, his timer tells him. He starts panicking, riddled with the fear of not finishing his task on time. It won't be long until Wonwoo awakes, so he has to start finding the right universe now or he will be doomed forever. 

Mingyu wakes up in a warehouse. Overhead, a single light bulb dangles from above. He doesn't know how he got here, but his hands are tied behind him and so are his legs, tied to the legs of the chair he is sitting on. He starts to wonder who's behind this—and who did this to him, and soon enough, he gets his answer.

"You're not going to budge, are you?" says a voice he knows too well. He turns, and Wonwoo is walking towards him, clad in a black suit. His sleek, black hair is pushed back, which Mingyu is not at all accustomed to seeing.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Wonwoo." Mingyu spits.

"I'm sick and tired of your lies, Mingyu. You and I both know that's not true. I don't want your _precious_ blood to get on my hands, so speak up."

"Again, I don't know what you're talking about." 

Mingyu figures out there is no use in bargaining with this universe's Wonwoo, and baffling will only lead him to imminent danger and torture, so he decides to end it quickly, easily. He gets the feeling that he already knows how this ends. 

And he is right.

"You leave me no choice," Wonwoo says, drawing a gun from his belt, cocking it. "Goodbye, Kim Mingyu."

He fires, but Mingyu is gone before the bullet even makes its way through his skin.

 

**00:23:09:34**

 

He is blindfolded.

"We're almost there!" He hears someone say, by now he's heard this voice too many times that's impossible for him not to recognize it. 

"Where are you taking me, Wonwoo?" Mingyu asks, tripping and stumbling even with the hand that guides his way. "I'm getting impatient. Also, could you go slower? I've tripped 5 times in a span of one minute."

"Oh, sorry, darling. We're really almost there." He says, eventually stopping. "You can take it off now."

Mingyu does, and he finds himself in the middle of a wide garden of pink and purple roses. He stands in awe, turning to Wonwoo. "Is this for me?" He asks.

"Yes. I'm sorry I didn't get your favorite flowers. I got mine, instead, so that you would remember me whenever you see it."

"Thank you so much."

Mingyu was almost led to believe that he'd finally found the right universe, he almost thought that this was it, this was the one where he and Wonwoo would end up together and they would both get the happy ending they deserved. But life was the cruelest of them all, and it simply wasn't so.

Wonwoo gets drafted for the war a few months later. He tells Mingyu not to worry, he reassures him that he'll be back before he knows it. He asks him to wait for him by the flower fields. 

_"That's where I will find you,"_ Wonwoo says, giving Mingyu one last smile, one last kiss before he jumps onto the military vehicle.

_Wait for me._

So he does, faithfully waiting, watching by the flower fields every succeeding day of his life. It's all he does, partly because in this lifetime, it's all he knows how to do: to wait for Wonwoo to come back.

Wonwoo never does.

 

**00:04:00:06**

 

Mingyu's hope dwindles down along with the passing of the minutes. The clock ticks, and his heart drops. Panic starts to get the best of him. He wakes up in the city once more, walking aimlessly, unfocused and dazed. 

He crosses the road with a riven heart, his vision hazy. Mingyu doesn't hear the familiar screeching of tires, nor does he see the vehicle hurtling rapidly towards him.

He is pronounced dead on arrival. 

He doesn't see Wonwoo in this universe, but Wonwoo sees him.

Wonwoo will never be able to sleep soundly again at night, knowing he’d just taken the life of an innocent boy.

 

**00:02:27:11**

 

Mingyu passes by the mall, which is full of people because apparently, there's a celebrity doing his fansign inside. Mingyu shrugs and rolls his eyes, walking away to grab some coffee.

Wonwoo looks at the crowd awaiting him; he's been signing for 4 solid hours now. He just wants to go home.

 

**00:00:00:59**

 

_A minute left._

_Time is running out. Time is running out. Time is running out_.

He awakes in a room. There’s nothing else in this room, but he hears footsteps from behind and he sees Seungcheol.

“A minute left,” Seungcheol says, tapping at the silver watch around his wrist.

“You knew, didn’t you?” Mingyu asks, voice full of anguish. He feels betrayed, above all, betrayed that this _chance_ was only a challenge he was destined to fail from the start. “You knew I wouldn’t succeed, you knew I’d lose him forever.”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions, child,” says Seungcheol, smirking. “It’s you who knows what you are capable of. You know full well what you want, and this task of yours will end the way you want it to.”

The silence is loud enough to hear a pin drop, the toxicity suffocating, until Seungcheol speaks again.

“And I ask you, what do you really want?”

“To be with him.”

“Then you shall.”

He begins to walk away, and Mingyu tries to follow him.

“Wait, wait, does this mean I’ll find the right universe? Does this mean I’ll succeed?

Seungcheol only gives him a smile.

“That, I cannot answer. But a lot can still happen in one minute, Kim Mingyu. More so in this world.”

He walks into the light and disappears, but Mingyu still hears him say, “Try to make the most out of it.”

Mingyu breaks under pressure and no one is there to fix him and bring his broken pieces back together. Not in this lifetime.

 

**00:00:00:05**

 

He is once again a doctor, this time in an actual hospital. A boy on a stretcher is whisked away into the emergency room. He catches the glimpse of a familiar face. 

_Time is running out._

 

**00:00:00:04**

 

Mingyu sings at a wedding and it hurts him too much to look at the groom, whose arms are wrapped tightly around his bride's waist. Mingyu only looks away. He just wants to get out of here.

_Time is running out._

 

**00:00:00:03**

 

Mingyu finds himself at the airport, on his way to board a plane headed to the USA. He hopes to see a familiar face, and maybe, just maybe, he's hoping that familiar face will finally remember.

But the gates are closing and he hasn't caught a glimpse of him anywhere. He makes his way towards the gates, his heart heavy, his eyes welling with tears.

As his plane prepares for departure, another prepares for landing.

_Time is running out._

 

**00:00:00:02**

 

One last chance. He prays, with all his might, that by some miracle or a slight slip of the hand, he gets whisked away into the right universe this time. He's hoping someone does. But there is no one. He starts sprinting, he starts to run, he doesn't know where his destination is. He just runs, with the hope that his feet take him to where he should be standing.

_Right next to Wonwoo_.  

He runs.

He stumbles.

He knows he is too late.

_Time has run out._

 

**00:00:00:01**

 

Mingyu expects to wake up in a dystopian world, another world where Wonwoo isn't by his side. He had failed. He failed to accomplish his task. In his original universe, Wonwoo is probably waking up. And when he does, he won't remember who Mingyu is. He'll lose every memory he has of them. Kim Mingyu and his existence will be just another forgotten memory, left to rot in the back of his mind.

Like vanishing off the face of the Earth. Like dying, but worse.

But he tells himself that he is ready to face the consequences of his shortcomings. He's ready to suffer for the rest of his life, which he deserves, because he knows he failed to save not only Wonwoo, for the second time, he also failed to save _them_. The resentment bubbles up in his chest even more, and for the last time, his world starts to spin, growing darker and faster.

His mind erupts into a tempest of thoughts as his world spins.

_I believe in you._

_I still believe in us._

_I will never stop believing in us._

_I am sorry._

And lastly,

_I love you._

_I always will._

He utters one last promise before he plunges into the cold, lifeless abyss _._

_I'll see you on the other side._

 

**00:00:00:00**

 

Wonwoo awakes in his hospital suite, surrounded by his family and friends, who all rejoice and let out shouts of glee at the moment he opens his eyes. He is in a state of confusion and bewilderment, eyes carefully scanning his surroundings. The doctor says it's normal. It's amazing, however, how he managed to stay in a coma for just one week. _Other would've had it worse,_ they say.

He engages in conversations with the people who have missed him for so long, and though it still hurts his head to move or do anything strenuous, he happily listens to their stories. He pities how he has missed a lot in just a week, but he's glad that the people around him are helping him catch up. 

His friends visit him on a regular basis, and he's more than happy to see them. He thinks he remembers everything, until one day, his friend Seungkwan asks him about the ring on his finger. 

Wonwoo definitely hasn't seen this ring before. He takes the silver band out and examines it, and the initials JWW are inscribed along its interior lining. _His initials._

"Who gave you that, Wonwoo?" Seungkwan asks. "I don't remember you getting engaged."

And Wonwoo suddenly feels the emptiness creeping inside him, surging through his veins. He doesn't know where it comes from and how he is able to feel it. He doesn't know why his chest feels like a hollow space. A void, one that makes me feel like his life is missing something great.

He feels like he just _lost_ something, and the worst part is, he doesn't know what it is. It feels almost like a promise left unfulfilled.

Clasping the ring right over where his heart laid, he says, "I can't remember."

He stares wistfully outside the window, overlooking the city. Rain falls hard, thunder roars and lightning strikes over the horizon, but he can't help but smile—as if struck with a memory he no longer has.

“I guess there are things that’ll stay in my heart, still. Even when I can’t remember.”

 

**00:00:00:00**

 

Mingyu awakes at the shrill sonance of his alarm clock, eyes promptly bolting open. He panics, scampering to turn it off, but is held in his place by an arm draped over his chest. He blinks. It takes him a few good minutes to realize whom he'd been sleeping next to.

"Mingyu, it's too early for your noisy-ass alarm tone," Wonwoo whines, burying his face onto Mingyu's chest. "Turn it off."

He stifles a gasp. 

"W-what? Hyung? What are you doing here?" Mingyu asks, sitting upright. He's in a room he doesn't recognize. It's a lot spacious than his old room, but a lot cozier. Sunlight peeks through the blinds, radiating over the room, illuminating every corner. "Where are we?"

Wonwoo sits by the edge of the bed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He turns and faces Mingyu. "Well, what better place is there to sleep in than in our room, right?"

"Our.. room?" 

"Yeah, why are you suddenly so surprised?"

"How on earth are we sharing a room?"

"I can't believe you're only asking that now. We've had this room for ten years, Mingyu."

"We... sleep together?

"Well, duh?" Wonwoo deadpans.

"But you told me you didn't want to sleep with me until we're married..." Mingyu says embarrassedly, trying to evade Wonwoo's gaze. 

Wonwoo laughs, holding up his left hand, flashing the silver band on his ring finger. "Seriously, Mingyu. Just how hard did you hit your head last night when you fell off the bed? I think you might need to go to a doctor, it sounds pretty serious."

Mingyu glances at his own hand, and sure enough, he is wearing a ring identical to Wonwoo's.

"No, no, wait, holy _shit,_ you mean we're married? As in, I proposed to you and you gave me a yes?" Mingyu asks excitedly, and Wonwoo rolls his eyes.

"The last time I checked, yes, Mingyu." Wonwoo says, yawning, pulling the duvet back over his body. "I'm going back to sleep, it's too early for your shenanigans. You should, too. I don't understand why you even set your alarm on a Saturday."

Mingyu smiles to himself, pulling the sheets back over his own body as he huddles close to his _husband_ , watching the steady rise and fall of his chest as he slumbers. 

It's when he realizes that _this_ is his reality now, and his world is no longer the one he’s left behind. He is now _this universe's Kim Mingyu._ Kim Mingyu, who is Wonwoo's husband. It's still a lot for him to take in, but he knows it won't take long for him to get used to this situation. It's what he'd been yearning for his whole life, anyway. 

One universe may have lost him, but he gained so much more in another. He's been through a lot of hardships, through suffering and pain, but having Wonwoo next to him will always be worth the wait and worth every battle, worth every odyssey.

_"I've found you,"_ Mingyu whispers, planting a chaste kiss upon his husband's forehead, and Wonwoo smiles.

_"Thank you."_

 

 

_until I find the one where you’ll return to me._

 

 

_("Will you stay with me?" Mingyu asks. This time, he awaits an answer. Wonwoo groans, pulling his husband closer. "I'm not going anywhere, Mingyu. Now, go back to sleep.")_

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry again if there are typos and mistakes! OTL
> 
> (This was only meant to be a drabble but I got a bit carried away?)
> 
> The quote is from the poem 25 Lives, by Tongari.


End file.
